


Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark

by suhmayzooka



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn, Team as Family, adam is inspired by elon musk, do you like 80s music? i do and i let 80s playlists inspire half this fic, i think that's all you need to know about that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhmayzooka/pseuds/suhmayzooka
Summary: Langa did what any desperate kid would do when their space travel device broke down: steal one. Sure, maybe it wasn't the best decision, but distress tends to affect moral judgement.Now he's banished from his home planet, on the run from an egomaniac, and stuck with a guy who won't shut up about the inflated prices for ship parts.Worst of all? He's enjoying it.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came to me in a dream

* * *

  
_**You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart** _  
_**This gun's for hire** _  
_**Even if we're just dancing in the dark** _

**-bruce springsteen,[dancing in the dark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=129kuDCQtHs)**

* * *

In all honesty, everything that happened was his fault, more or less, and it took a great deal of maturity to admit it, despite what the rest of his team would have you believe. Langa was a pretty good kid, so when the time finally came for him to act out he did so by dooming his home planet to be at the center of an intergalactic disaster—but we'll get to that later.

Dad always called him an "adrenaline addict." Dad was the same way, apparently, because he died in an avalanche while the rest of planet Hiemynx was following strict stay-at-home orders. That was the definitive worst day of Langa's life up until he got exiled. 

Mom, on the other hand, was a lot more cautious. That was how she managed to outlive her husband in such harsh conditions, after all, and she tried to instill her beliefs in her reckless son. She thought she was doing pretty well, since he was overall a very obedient and filial child, but maybe she should have prepared for something like this. It would have been so easy for Langa to stay home with her, to do what she requested and follow the rules he had abided by for his life, to remain tied to the snow and ice of Hiemynx and never wonder what the universe beyond their little planet was like. 

He made stupid decisions, yes, terribly shortsighted, rash decisions. At several points during his adventure he did wonder whether he should stop, whether he should give up and accept whatever punishment was to be bestowed on him.

There was no need for him to experience crashing on a different planet, no need for him to befriend aliens, no need to face down a dictator, and certainly no need for him to fall in love. 

But he did so anyway and came back with a pretty cool story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo idk what the update schedule will be like? the chapters are relatively short compared to my other projects (like...tcat is a monster at 15k+ words per chapter) and this is nowhere NEAR as emotionally taxing so i'm hoping at least once or twice a week? maybe? but i'm also really busy with school so who knows
> 
> feel free to check out my social media! https://linktr.ee/suhmayzooka
> 
> anyway. i'm really excited to write this and i'll hopefully see you all soon!


	2. Langa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i have a very VERY rudimentary, intro-level understanding of astronomy and physics and everything i know about snowboarding comes from youtube videos i watched like mad when trying to write. if any sciencey people are reading this, i'm going to ask that you be very forgiving with what is undoubtedly nonsense. the in-universe explanation is this all takes place in a galaxy far away where our natural laws don't apply. really i'm just making shit up as i go.

* * *

_**Say, if I only could  
I'd make a deal with God  
And I'd get him to swap our places  
I'd be running up that road  
Be running up that hill  
With no problems** _

**-kate bush,[running up that hill](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wp43OdtAAkM)**

* * *

Like many well-intentioned-terribly-executed plans, it all starts out of desperation.

Mom has been sick for a week, according to Langa’s estimations. If being trapped on the furthest planet isn’t enough, any remnants of the sun’s rays are eclipsed by the gas giants in orbit before them. There’s a sliver of time when the planets align in such a way that allows Hiemynx a bit of light, but for the most part they are stuck in darkness. There isn’t even a moon to signal the passing of nights, and clocks don’t work the same as on Earth, so the residents of Hiemynx measure time by intuition. Years are different, too, since Hiemnyx is so far from the sun; astronomers believe that one revolution, one year, on Hiemynx is the equivalent of a few centuries on Earth, and similar discrepancies exist on other planets. Earth has been uninhabitable for generations now, but they all use Earth time as a reference. Langa thinks he’s seventeen Earth years; his mother believes she’s around forty.

He’s at her bedside, spooning canned soup into her mouth. She hasn’t stopped sneezing. He feels guilty; she’s been out of work since her job was outsourced to one of the inner planets, and it’s near impossible for an inexperienced kid to make money.

“Baby,” she rasps, “I need carbs. Starch.”

Soup is all they have, and it’s nothing more than flavored water. Meat and vegetables are expensive imports, and many people of Hiemynx would rather risk malnutrition than spend the little money they have.

It must be catching up with Mom now. The temperature drops a bit lower than usual and her immune system gives up. It scares Langa.

“Like bread?” he asks. Bread is another luxury they haven’t had in years.

“Mmm. Yes, bread.”

“We don’t have bread, Mom.” He doubts anyone on Hiemynx does. “I’ll go heat up more soup.”

“We don’t have bread?”

He frowns, a bit concerned. Usually, the delirium takes a while to set in. “No, Mom. Haven’t for years.”

“You can go get some.”

She takes the spoon he has poised by her lips and pushes it against his chest. Her face is set, unfocused eyes steeled on his.

“What about your medicine?” he asks instead, setting the soup on her bedside vanity. “Your medicine should be ready by now, right?”

Her head lolls back, and she stares at the crumbling ceiling. “Right. Baby, get my medicine. And my bread.”

He kisses her damp forehead before he leaves.

* * *

When he died, Dad left Langa a vehicle called a Snow-Surf. It’s a flat board that hovers above the snow, and it’s the main method of transportation on Hiemynx.

The boards were inspired by snowboards and surfboards used back on Earth before all the snow melted and the sea levels rose too greatly. The guy who invented them made such a fortune he was able to move out of Hiemynx to one of the planets closer to the sun. The people he left behind on Hiemynx felt betrayed at first and called him a sell-out, but his invention is invaluable to their miserable lives, so they can’t quite bring themselves to hate him. If anything, they are jealous of his ability to elevate himself and earn a life on one of the more hospitable planets, and they feel a bit of pride knowing that such a resourceful man is representing Hiemynx to the people beyond the asteroid belt.

Dad’s model has the added benefit of ascending an unlimited amount in all directions. It’s a rarity in the newer ones, which prioritize quick travel over short distances to long treks. Normal Snow-Surfs hover, but this one _flies_. As long as Langa’s suited up properly, helmet on and rusty oxygen tank strapped to his back, he can travel to the nearby planets without his board losing too much fuel, and that’s what he does now.

There aren’t many terrestrial planets on this side of the asteroid belt. Most are gas giants, like the planets that block out the sun from Hiemynx. It was purely by chance that astronomers discovered the icy Hiemynx has enough oxygen and water to be barely-habitable for humans—and therefore the perfect place to dump the poor, the felons, and the overall unwanted members of society when they all left Earth.

It was also by chance that a dwarf planet existed in orbit between Hiemynx and the nearest gas giant. It had been initially overlooked by scientists when they were establishing which planets were habitable and which people should inhabit them, but it happened that the little red Ignitilis was suitable. Because it has a marginally nicer climate than Hiemynx, Ignitilis is reserved for merchants and laborers—the people deemed to be slightly higher in status than the people of Hiemynx.

Ignitilis is a trade stop for the goods that come from the inner planets. This is where Langa and others on Hiemynx get the food the inner planets won’t consume, the clothes they won’t wear, and the medicine they won’t need. Sure, the food tends to be rotting, the clothes tend to be poorly-made, and the medicine tends to be expired, but they’re desperate for anything outside their barren planet.

He’s halfway to Ignitilis when his board starts jerking. He looks down, and even through the darkness of his visor, he can see a flashing light blinking between his feet.

_Low on fuel._

Well. It hadn’t _said_ it was low on fuel back on Hiemynx. Langa swears it had enough. No, he hasn’t used it since before Mom got sick, but that shouldn’t matter since the damn thing has a lifespan long enough to withstand a few weeks without getting work done.

He _did_ want to bring it in last week for a checkup, but then Mom started coughing and he had to attend to her. He couldn’t leave her alone in that state—not like he’s doing now, he realizes bitterly.

He shakes his head. Ignitilis has a good repair shop with a good team of mechanics. He’ll stay for the few extra hours it took for them to fix up his board, and then he’ll be heading back to Hiemynx with Mom’s medicine and leftover bread, in the unlikely case the market has any. Bread is too valuable for the inner planets to let go to waste.

Then he smacks a hand to his helmet-covered head. Board repairs aren’t cheap, and he barely has enough money to pay for Mom’s medicine. He’ll be lucky if he has anything left over for food, but any work on the board is out of the question.

About an hour passes before the Snow-Surf begins descending. Trying not to panic, he urges it forward, willing it to survive the few minutes until they reach Ignitilis. He thinks a quick message for his father, hoping that if there is any afterlife, he may hear him from somewhere in the vast universe.

_Dad, your stupid board is low on fuel and I’m praying that I don’t crash because I know how much it means to you. I have no idea why it’s flunking out on me, but if I die now and meet you please don’t get too mad at me._

He’s pretty sure the oxygen tank will last him at least a few days if the board gives out and he ends up floating aimlessly amongst the stars. He takes shallower breaths, desperately hoping that doing so will somehow conserve the oxygen.

He starts getting lightheaded, so he resigns to breathing normally. _This could only happen to me_ , he reckons, expelling one particularly heavy breath.

Then the board thrusts forward. The _low on fuel_ light is flashing pathetically, tauntingly, and all he thinks is _this is how I die_.

And he never even got to see the inner planets.

He’s also rapidly approaching the surface of Ignitilis. Gravity takes control as he plunges through the planet’s atmosphere. His feet are locked in place, something that he’s always been grateful for, but as he falls he wishes he had more control and didn’t have extra weight to crash against him when he eventually meets the ground. The board will do nothing but cause further injuries, if not outright kill him. He tries to adjust his stance, but he’s in shock and plummeting too rapidly.

The details of the ground below, roofs and streets and people, start coming into view. He’s about to brace himself for impact when he has a sudden, wild burst of inspiration. It’s reckless, and he’ll _definitely_ end up dead or critically injured if he fails, but it’s the only way he thinks he can survive.

 _Help me, Dad,_ he thinks, using all his strength to maneuver himself. _Are you watching me now_?

By some great stroke of luck, the most he’s had all his life, he’s above one of the many hills that crest the surface of Ignitilis.

He grips the board with one hand. 

In that moment he’s no longer seconds away from a gruesome death on Ignitilis. He’s ten, riding this same board in the ice-capped mountains of Hiemynx with Dad. He flips over in the air once, twice, three times, hearing Dad’s shouts of encouragement in his ear.

Of course, he's overlooked the fact that there Ignitilis is hot and dry. Instead of landing on the cover of snow he and his board are accustomed to on Hiemynx, he smacks hard, dusty rock.

He skids down the side of the hill. He’s thrown off-balance slightly and falls, rolling unceremoniously the rest of the way down. The oxygen tank digs into his back, but it stops his tumble. Somehow during this he has the wherewithal to unlock his feet from the board; finally free, he manages to get onto his hands and knees.

He takes off his helmet, which managed to sustain the fall and keep his skull from being crushed, even though the glass visor is shattered. Now that gravity exists, the oxygen tank on his back is heavy, and he sets to remove it. He’s still in shock, he can tell, as his body relies on muscle memory to do the actions. Langa goes through the motions with his mind blank.

His board is… somewhere further up the hill. Lying uselessly out of fuel, and he’s too poor to bring it to the shop for a repair.

When the shock does dissipate, and he realizes he’s shaking at the foot of a hill on a planet he barely knows his way around, he can’t do anything more than curl into a ball and wonder how the hell he’s still alive, and how the hell he’s getting back to Hiemynx with no board. How the hell he’s supposed to get Mom the medicine she needs to survive another endless winter.

He wonders whether Dad had these same thoughts when the snow caved in over his body. Whether he wondered how he’d get back to the family that needed him.

And then he’s out, sprawled face-down in the dust with a broken helmet, a half-full oxygen tank, and a Snow-Surf board of absolutely no use to him.


End file.
